Read Online Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Ally Bishop - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ally Bishop
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mind, I go with the safest answer. “Flying.” I shudder. “I absolutely hate being airborne.”
“Really? Why?”
I consider his question. “I’m not sure. Something about being up there, knowing that if something happens, you have no control over any of it. Yeah, I do not fly. I’ll drive just about anywhere. Love trains. But I will do quite a bit to avoid flying.”
“A Dominatrix who doesn’t like being out of control on a plane.” He grins. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
I laugh, lead him to the living room, and push him down onto the couch.
“So, when do I get full Mistress Hathaway treatment?” he asks as I straddle him, enjoying the play of his muscles under my hands as he shifts to accommodate me. We’re both in jeans and t-shirts, but that won’t last for long.
We kiss, and for a long while, the focus of his mouth on mine distracts me completely. Eventually, I pull back and look at him. “You don’t know anything about BDSM, do you?”
“I’ve heard of it, of course, and I have a general idea—particularly after being in Paddled—but no, not other than that. Is that a problem? I dinna mind that you like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Famous last words.”
“Why?”
He seems genuinely curious about my reaction, so I try to boil it down for him. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when you don’t have common interests. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed last night. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy tonight,” I outline his bottom lip lightly with my finger. “But BDSM is a preference. A taste, if you will. It’s like trying to eat frozen yogurt to satisfy you, when all you really want is gelato.”
His hands slide up my arms, giving me a pleasant chill as he mulls over my words. “I much prefer gelato,” he says with a grin. “So, would I know if I like it? I mean, are ye born that way? Or is it more of an…”
“Acquired taste? That’s a good question. Sometimes it’s a bit of both.” I pause, giving his comment some thought. “I’ve had clients who’ve always known what they like. Some know, but they haven’t felt free to express it. Others…they struggle finding what they enjoy. Like Ari. She knew she wanted to submit, but she was scared to do it again, because it’s been used against her by previous partners.”
He shakes his head. “That’s too bad. She seemed verra sweet and gentle.”
“She is. And a very good person. I’m glad I could help her find that safe place to be herself again.”
After a few more moments of consideration, he nods, as though coming to a decision. “Should we try it then? Will ye show me what I’ve been missing out on?”
I silence him with my mouth, unsure how to answer him. I’ve never been in this position before, as someone’s first foray in BDSM. I’ve always been drawn to—or sought out by—people already in the community. They might not have been active or clear on their preferences, but they already had a solid handle on whether they liked it or not. “You really want to try it out?”
He grins, making him even more delicious. “Weel, I think I do. Maybe I only want to see a wee bit of what ye do. Get my feet wet, ye ken?”
I sit back, grinning in return. “Did a little bit of research, did you?”
“Aye, and there’s some scary shite out there. Do ye really abuse a man with a bullwhip? Beat him with bare fists? And use clothespins on his balls?” His quirked eyebrow tells me exactly how he feels about that.
“Mmm.” I lean down and press my lips against the blade of his jaw, nudging his head over so I have access to his neck. “ Aye , I have.”
“And they wanted ye to do that, then?”
I trace the vulnerable curve of his neck, catching his skin between my teeth in light nips. “They paid me to do it.”
He snorts derisively. “I dinna think I could take such things on my balls. Of course, I dinna think I would like being beaten on, either, with whips or fists, ye ken.”
His accent makes his
“Really? Why?”
I consider his question. “I’m not sure. Something about being up there, knowing that if something happens, you have no control over any of it. Yeah, I do not fly. I’ll drive just about anywhere. Love trains. But I will do quite a bit to avoid flying.”
“A Dominatrix who doesn’t like being out of control on a plane.” He grins. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
I laugh, lead him to the living room, and push him down onto the couch.
“So, when do I get full Mistress Hathaway treatment?” he asks as I straddle him, enjoying the play of his muscles under my hands as he shifts to accommodate me. We’re both in jeans and t-shirts, but that won’t last for long.
We kiss, and for a long while, the focus of his mouth on mine distracts me completely. Eventually, I pull back and look at him. “You don’t know anything about BDSM, do you?”
“I’ve heard of it, of course, and I have a general idea—particularly after being in Paddled—but no, not other than that. Is that a problem? I dinna mind that you like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Famous last words.”
“Why?”
He seems genuinely curious about my reaction, so I try to boil it down for him. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when you don’t have common interests. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed last night. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy tonight,” I outline his bottom lip lightly with my finger. “But BDSM is a preference. A taste, if you will. It’s like trying to eat frozen yogurt to satisfy you, when all you really want is gelato.”
His hands slide up my arms, giving me a pleasant chill as he mulls over my words. “I much prefer gelato,” he says with a grin. “So, would I know if I like it? I mean, are ye born that way? Or is it more of an…”
“Acquired taste? That’s a good question. Sometimes it’s a bit of both.” I pause, giving his comment some thought. “I’ve had clients who’ve always known what they like. Some know, but they haven’t felt free to express it. Others…they struggle finding what they enjoy. Like Ari. She knew she wanted to submit, but she was scared to do it again, because it’s been used against her by previous partners.”
He shakes his head. “That’s too bad. She seemed verra sweet and gentle.”
“She is. And a very good person. I’m glad I could help her find that safe place to be herself again.”
After a few more moments of consideration, he nods, as though coming to a decision. “Should we try it then? Will ye show me what I’ve been missing out on?”
I silence him with my mouth, unsure how to answer him. I’ve never been in this position before, as someone’s first foray in BDSM. I’ve always been drawn to—or sought out by—people already in the community. They might not have been active or clear on their preferences, but they already had a solid handle on whether they liked it or not. “You really want to try it out?”
He grins, making him even more delicious. “Weel, I think I do. Maybe I only want to see a wee bit of what ye do. Get my feet wet, ye ken?”
I sit back, grinning in return. “Did a little bit of research, did you?”
“Aye, and there’s some scary shite out there. Do ye really abuse a man with a bullwhip? Beat him with bare fists? And use clothespins on his balls?” His quirked eyebrow tells me exactly how he feels about that.
“Mmm.” I lean down and press my lips against the blade of his jaw, nudging his head over so I have access to his neck. “ Aye , I have.”
“And they wanted ye to do that, then?”
I trace the vulnerable curve of his neck, catching his skin between my teeth in light nips. “They paid me to do it.”
He snorts derisively. “I dinna think I could take such things on my balls. Of course, I dinna think I would like being beaten on, either, with whips or fists, ye ken.”
His accent makes his
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